


You're Looking a Little Stark

by Midnight_Clover



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Betaed, Bisexual Miles Morales, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: Civil war didn't happen, Character Death, Coming Out, Crushes, Cute Miles Morales, Dad!Tony, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Intern Peter Parker, Interns & Internships, IronDad and SpiderSon, Irondad, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Miles Morales Needs a Hug, Miles Morales is the second main character after a bit, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Past Character Death, Peter Parker Can Wield Mjolnir, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter has arachnophobia, Peter-centric, Pining, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Secret Identity, Secrets, Slow Burn, Spidey Sense (Marvel), Stress Baking, Swearing, Sweet Miles Morales, Teen Peter Parker, They talked things out like responsible adults, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark doesn't know Peter Parker is Spider-man, dad tony, miles is my sonflower, spiderson, tony stark is such a dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Clover/pseuds/Midnight_Clover
Summary: Peter Parker is just an intern at Stark Industries. Or, rather, that's what he wants everyone to think. But after meeting Tony Stark for the second time in his life, change gets launched his way left and right. He's not used to having someone care about him like this since Ben died.Or:A story of how Tony Stark becomes continuously more of a father (especially around two very energetic teenagers. Through grief, misunderstandings, and terror, he will fight for these kids).Hiatus until November 5th!





	1. Just an Intern

**Author's Note:**

> ^*^ for a time break  
> <>*<> for a perspective change

Peter’s favorite days of the week are Tuesday and Thursday for one simple reason: those are the days he gets to intern at Stark Industries. He’s one of only five high school age interns and the only one in the New York building. Twice a week he gets to leave class ten minutes early to catch the subway that he takes to the Stark Industries building.

 

Peter taps his foot quickly, jittering up and down like a cricket, itching for the clock to tick past. He eyes the clock, barely listening to the teacher. As soon as it strikes two twenty pm, his hand shoots in the air. 

 

“You can go, Mr. Parker,” his teacher says, barely passing him a glance.

 

Peter shoots up, snatching his backpack from the floor next to him and making a beeline to the exit. He jogs lightly out of school and heads towards the subway, getting there just under a minute before the train does. When it gets there, he takes a free seat, glad that it’s not rush hour. Fifteen minutes later he’s stepping up from underground, crossing the street, and breathing a sigh of relief when the Stark Industries air conditioning hits him.

 

“Hi, Susan,” Peter greets the security guard with a wave. 

 

He grabs his key card out of his backpack and slips it over his head before sending his bag down the conveyor belt. He steps through the metal detector waiting for it to turn green before grabbing his backpack off the other end.

 

“Have a nice day, Peter,” Susan says as Peter grabs his phone out of his backpack.

 

“You too, Ms. Susan!” Peter says, slipping his backpack on. Peter sends a quick text to his Aunt May telling her he made it in before shoving his phone in his pocket.

 

Peter quickly makes his way up to the intern labs and gets to work. After the lab supervisor passes around and makes sure he has something to do, Peter pushes his work to the side and pulls out his notebook, immediately getting to work on a new web formula.

 

He’s been doing this for a while. Peter uses the technology the interns have access too to edit and perfect the formula. Having access to chemical labs is useful when you need to mix the shit out of dangerous chemicals.

 

Almost an hour later, the interns get an unexpected visitor. Peter had slipped his notebook and a container of the new formula in his bag only minutes before the arrival of Tony Stark.

 

Tony Stark didn’t usually visit the interns; he usually didn’t leave the top few floors as far as the interns knew. But now, in all his glory, the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Tony Stark is walking around looking at what the interns are working on. Most of the interns are understandably excited to see him there, but they attempt to keep the appearance of working normally. 

 

Peter tenses as he senses Mr. Stark’s eyes land on him. He lets out a breath, waiting for the feeling to disappear when he moves onto the other interns. He continues working on his 3D model on his computer and focuses on the French lyrics drifting to his ears through his headphones. Instead of the feeling passing on, Peter senses Mr. Stark as he starts walking towards him. Peter waits until Mr. Stark is standing next to him before carefully taking a headphone out of his ear and glancing at him. They seem to be level height because Peter is sitting on the tall stools in the lab.

 

“Whatcha working on, kid?” Mr. Stark,  _Tony freaking Stark_ , asks.

 

It’s the second sentence Mr. Stark has ever said to Peter, but that was so many years ago, that Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t remember him. Peter was eight when the Stark-expo got attacked. May and Ben brought him there after weeks of begging, and the two of them regretted it. Peter remembers May silently hyperventilating as Peter excitedly told the tale of coming face to face with a killer robot and Ironman telling him he did a good job. Ben anxiously indulged his story, smiling and more successfully looking like he was enjoying the story than May did. 

 

“T-temporary casing for a robot I’m working on,” Peter says, proud of only slightly stuttering.

 

“How old are you?” Mr. Stark asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Fifteen, sir.” Peter slips the other earbud out of his ear 

 

“Jesus, kid. I- What’s your name?”

 

“Peter Parker, sir.”

 

“Well, Peter, I was under the impression that we didn’t hire high school age interns.”

 

“Oh… Um- there are only five. I’m the only one in this building… I think,” Peter says, quickly saving the program just in case. Anything can happen if you get distracted.

 

“Huh, I’ll have to ask Pepper about that sometime,” Mr. Stark says to himself.

 

Peter waits for Mr. Stark to say anything else for a moment before Mr. Stark wanders off to look at other interns projects.

 

Peter exhales tension leaving his body. He slips his earbuds back in and the pleasant sounds of [Zaz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mh5Nk5dS9Zw) fill his ears. He may not know any French, but he enjoys the music. It’s kind of calming but energetic. He continues working as his heart rate slowly lowers from the nerve-wracking interaction.

 

^*^

 

Peter walks out of the SI building, looking both ways before crossing the street. He glances at his reflection in the shiny glass buildings as makes his way to the subway station, and sliding into a car just before the doors close. Twenty minutes later he’s walking up the stairs to his apartment, excitedly yelling “May, I’m home!” when he opens the door. 

 

“Hey, sweety,” May greets from the kitchen. “How was your day?”

 

“It was good,” Peter answers, setting down his bag by the door and walking into the kitchen. “Tony Stark visited the labs today, and he talked to  _ me _ .”

 

“Really? That's certainly exciting,” May says as she gives the batter on the counter one last stir before muttering something about a ladle.

 

“Drawer on your right, May,” Peter says helpfully. “What’s for dinner?”

 

“Bacon and pancakes,” she tells him, pulling a ladle out of the drawer triumphantly and scooping batter into a pan. “Bacon ‘s in the oven. Actually, could you check on it?”

 

Peter walks over to the oven and opens it slightly. “Not burned yet,” he supplies. “Could do with another minute though.”

 

^*^

 

After they are both stuffed full of pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup, Peter slips off to his room.

 

He grabbed the new container of web fluid from his bag and began the task of transferring the sticky substance to the cartridges that fit into his web-shooters.

 

Half an hour later, it's almost eleven thirty pm and the cartridges are full. Peter considers that he could and probably should make the fluid in smaller amounts before dismissing the thought for later and snuggling into bed.


	2. Is it Denial or Pessimism?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Stark visits the labs again. And... again...?

Mr. Stark visits the intern labs just ten minutes after Peter gets there on the following Thursday. Peter is focusing on working in his notebook and trying to ignore the man’s large presence in the room. He carefully sketches the new web cartridge design, this time making the shape cylindrical instead of a capsule.

 

Peter feels Mr. Stark’s eyes land on him. He continues working, hoping he’ll move on. He feels Mr. Stark start moving towards him and flips to a new page and starts to sketch out random gear mechanisms.

 

“Whatcha working on, Peter?” Mr. Stark asks, looking over Peter’s shoulder to his notebook.

 

Peter says the first thing that pops in his head, “Robotic spider legs.” He continues roughly and speedily sketching.

 

“Couldn’t help but notice you weren’t here yesterday,” Mr. Stark says casually.

 

“I only come Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Peter answers, ignoring the jolt in his heart rate at the thought of  _ Mr. Stark _ looking for  _ him _ . Peter keeps his eyes on his notebook, making sure to keep the pencil moving.

 

“Huh,” Mr. Stark huffs.

 

“Can’t you just look it up in the employee database?” Peter asks, immediately regretting the question and inwardly scolding himself for being rude.

 

“As CEO, Pepper has locked me out of it.” Mr. Stark shrugs.

 

“Pepper  _ is _ scary,” Peter comments, finally willing up the courage to look at the man beside him.

 

“Can’t disagree with you there, kid. Does she come down here a lot?” Mr. Stark asks.

 

“Um, once every other month or something,” Peter says with a slight, breathy chuckle.

 

Mr. Stark takes another look at his notebook, studying the sketch. “And you’re fourteen, right?”

 

“Fifteen, actually… sir,” Peter corrects, only adding the ‘sir’ as an afterthought and pinching the pad of his pointer finger with his thumb and middle finger.

 

Mr. Stark turns away, muttering under his breath “What the hell?” too quietly for anyone but Peter to hear, though he doubts anyone normal could hear the question.

 

^*^

 

On Thursdays, Peter stays later. He clocks out at the same time, 5 o’clock, but after that, he heads to the food court with his friends Claire and Alex.

 

“So what was up with Mr. Stark talking to you today?” Claire asks before biting into a slice of pizza.

 

“Don’t really know. He kind of just came over and asked me a bunch of questions, and he only asked one about what I was working on,” Peter tells her before taking a bite of his pasta.

 

“Maybe he’s impressed with you. You  _ are _ pretty young,” Alex suggests, mouth full of cheesy broccoli. Alex has his dark brown hair shoved in a beanie; his cue to Peter and Claire that he’s feeling masculine.

 

“Ugh, chew with your mouth closed,” Claire says, cuffing Alex on the back of his head.

 

“I doubt it, he graduated from MIT when he was my age.”

 

“Yeah, everyone knows  _ that _ . But you’re here! You’re interning at SI at fifteen when some college  _ graduates _ from MIT don’t get to!” Claire says encouragingly.

 

“That’s true, but what else did he ask you about?” Alex asks, gesturing wildly with his fork.

 

“He asked what days I come here.” Peter shoves a carrot in hummus and pops it in his mouth.

 

“He came in yesterday for a second,” Claire says. “He looked around and then left pretty quickly.” A spark of recognition appears on Claire’s face. “He was looking for you! He was totally looking for you!”

 

“No, he wasn’t. He could have looked from the security cameras or see who scanned their cards in that day,” Peter denies.  _ Or could he have? Pepper might have locked him out of that too…  _

 

Alex shrugs. “Could have been a lot of things. I mean-” he takes a bite of broccoli “-he coub have thought you were a suspicious character or sombthing.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex. If he thought that he would have talked to Cinthia, she’s the one that’s supposed to know everything about the interns,” Claire says.

 

Alex hums in consideration. “I guess.”

 

“It’s Tony Stark, who truly knows what’s going on inside that guy’s head,” Peter jokes.

 

“Is thought real?” Claire asks.

 

“Who knows? But the real question is does it matter if thought is real or not?” Alex asks.

 

“No!” Claire says with a bright grin.

 

“You guys are so weird sometimes…” Peter scrunches his eyebrows together.

 

^*^

 

“Ned, I promise he wasn’t looking for me,” Peter groans, opening his locker.

 

“I don’t know, Peter. The facts line up,” Ned says.

 

“Well, the facts are circumstantial at best.”

 

“Why can’t you just be happy about this, Peter. Tony Stark wanted to talk to you!” Ned says excitedly.

 

“No, he wasn’t. He just took some random interest in the intern labs and won't come back for at least a month, if ever.” Peter snaps his locker shut with more force than intended.

 

“Pessimist,” Ned remarks.

 

“Wha- Ned! I don’t want to believe in something I know won't happen,” Peter says. “Besides, Claire turned me into a nihilist…”

 

“How can you be so sure that he’s not?!” Ned demands.

 

“Because I don’t want to get my hopes up, Ned. It’s cool and all that he talked to me, but he’s a busy person, expecting something from him would only hurt me. So-so just drop it. Okay?”

 

“I- Fine,” Ned groans in relent.

 

“That’s a really mature perspective, Peter,” MJ says from behind them.

 

Peter squeaks in surprise. Why hadn’t his spidey sense warned him about her?? “MJ! Don’t do that,” Peter hits her arm lightly. Lightly for him, that is, for anyone else it would be normal.

 

^*^

 

Peter fiddles with the chemicals, mixing them at the appropriate times. His notebook is open beside him, displaying the third version of the formula for his webs; It’s a new version that should be quicker to make and easier to handle. He had run out of fluid that weekend, and couldn’t go out again as Spider-man until he made more.

 

It’s been two weeks since Mr. Stark had visited the intern labs and no one expected him to be coming back while they were still working there. That’s why Peter was caught off guard when he overhears Mr. Stark talking to someone in the hallway.

 

“Pepper, please!”

 

“No, Tony. You don’t get to look at employee's records,” Pepper says calmly.

 

Their voices are getting closer.

 

“I don’t want to see all of them. I just want to see  _ his _ . Not employees, just employee,” Mr. Stark whines. What a weird thought, an adult whining.

 

The voices were just on the other side of the door now.


	3. Bring Him Back in one Piece

As Pepper and Mr. Stark argue just outside the door, Peter is becoming glad Sammy took his usual spot closer to the door. He attempts to carefully hide anything conspicuous without throwing his work away as Pepper cracks the door open slightly to enter.

 

_ Why today? Why today? Why today? _ Peter asks himself.

 

Nothing’s working, it all looks out of place. A lie sparks in Peter’s mind.

 

Pepper begins walking around the room with Mr. Stark trailing behind her, begging her to give him someone’s file. Peter cautiously continues working, intensely aware of his own movements and the movements of the two adults walking around the room.

 

“Hi, Peter,” Mr. Stark greets with his arms crossed, standing next to Peter.

 

“H-hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, giving the watery concoction a final stir.

 

“ _ Web formula three point o _ ,” Mr. Stark reads from Peter’s open notebook.

 

“Uh.” Peter clears his throat with a cough. “Y-yeah. I’ve been thinking about Spider-man’s webs and- um, I was wondering if he made them or they’re part of his powers. So I started thinking about what they could be made of and this is the third try-”

 

“This is pretty advanced stuff, Peter,” Mr. Stark says as he studies the page, thankfully cutting off Peter’s rambling.

 

“I-I guess,” Peter stutters out, his face getting hot from the pressure of trying to be cool in front of a certified cool-guy™️. “um, thanks.”

 

“Wanna work on something with me?” Mr. Stark asks.

 

“What?” Peter asks. This couldn’t be right. “I-”

 

“Tony, stop harassing the interns and get back to work,” Pepper says from behind Mr. Stark. Peter hadn’t even noticed her.

 

Mr. Stark turns to face her. “You’ve dragged me to meetings for two straight weeks, let me have this!” He exclaims with desperation. 

 

“I have not, Tony. Your meetings happened to fall during the afternoon of Tuesday and Thursday for two weeks.”

 

“You did that on purpose.” Mr. Stark points an accusing finger at her. 

 

Peter decides to ignore them and get back to working on the fluid.

 

“Tony you can’t just claim everything I do that you don’t like is personally against you,” Pepper sighs.

 

“Then give me the file.”  _ Pour beaker b into beaker c. _

 

“Tony-”  _ Pour half of beaker c into beaker a. _

 

“Please give me his file,” Mr. Stark whines like a toddler about to start throwing a tantrum and cling to a caregiver’s pant leg.  _ Pour the rest of beaker c in beaker d. _

 

Pepper gives a sigh and shuffles through the folders in her arms.  _ Add the acid to beaker d. _ “Fine, here,” she relents.

 

“Thank you!” Mr. Stark gives a shining grin, jogging out of the room.  _ Pour beaker d into beaker a. _

 

“I should have just left it in there, maybe he wouldn’t have found it,” Peter hears Pepper mutter as she walks around the room. 

 

_ Pour beaker a into a container for later for transfer. Put the container in your backpack and clean up the excess chemicals. _

 

Peter does his best to forget about the odd interaction, but he can’t seem to get it out of his head until late that evening.  _ What was Mr. Stark looking for in that file? _

 

^*^

 

Peter doesn’t tell Ned about it, afraid of the other boy’s theatrics and the possibility of being overheard. All seemed well when Peter enters the lab that Thursday. Alex and Claire are working on something together in the corner. Claire is shoving her hair in a tight bun to keep it out of her face as Peter walks over to them. 

 

“Braid my hair?” Alex requests, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes.

 

“No.” Claire refuses to make eye contact.

 

“Please,” Alex pouts, adding to her begging puppy look.

 

Claire briefly makes eye contact, sparing her only a glance. “Fine, then we’ll get back to work,” she resigns, slipping a hair tie onto her wrist and grabbing a brush from her bag.

 

“Sure…” Alex smirks.

 

“We’re going to get back to work,” Claire states as she roughly tugs a hairbrush through Alex’s hair making her yelp in pain.

 

“Yep!” She squeaks out as Claire keeps brushing.

 

Peter gives a small chuckle. “You okay?”

 

“She asked for this,” Claire says.

 

“Fair enough.” Peter takes a seat in front of one of the lab’s desktop computers, ready to start looking over some code.

 

Peter bristles as the door to the labs open. He feels Mr. Stark’s eyes land on him like always.  _ Like always _ … how odd, there's a pattern. Peter ignores the feeling as he pretends to work. Mr. Stark approaches from behind. He can feel Alex and Claire’s movements stop as he gets closer to them. 

 

“Mr. Parker,” Mr. Stark says.

 

Peter pushes off the ground to spin the chair to face Mr. Stark. “Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter greets, struggling to stop himself from spinning around in circles. 

 

There’s an amused smile on Mr. Stark’s face when he stops spinning. “You seem like a smart kid, does the work you do down here actually challenge you?” Peter shrugs. “I think I have something better for you to work on, come with me.”

 

“I- What?”

 

“Do you want to work with me?” Peter nods. “Then follow me.” Mr. Stark starts walking towards the door. Peter snatches up his backpack from the ground and starts to follow, meeting Claire and Alex’s confused stares. “Cinthia, I’m stealing Peter for the day.”

 

“Leave him in one piece please,” Cinthia answers.

 

^*^

 

Peter follows Mr. Stark in uncomfortable silence, unwilling to open his mouth first. The silence doesn’t seem like it bothers Mr. Stark.

 

The lab is huge and pristine. The general style is similar to the intern labs, but the walls look fresh and clean like the large panels had to be regularly replaced due to dangerous lab accidents. Most of the counter space is cluttered with shiny pieces of scrap metal and motor oil. On the biggest table with lots of maneuverability lies the upper body of the iron man suit with the right arm detached but only a foot away.

 

“Okay, kid,” Mr. Stark says. “Why don’t you work on that.” He points to the arm with and opens the diagnostic screen. Tony knows how to fix it, and he suspects Peter does too, but just in case…

 

Five minutes later Peter has fixed the arm, it was a simple problem just a hidden screw slightly out of place. “Nice work, kid.”

 

“T-thanks, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Wanna do some brainstorming for a new suit?” Mr. Stark offers.

 

“I’d love to,” Peter says, awe evident in his voice.

 

Three hours later Peter gets a text.

 

**Watermelon (please (don’t) change the chat name)**

 

Alex: You coming down for dinner today or are you too high and mighty :p

_ Now _

 

Claire: Leave him be

_ Now _

 

Peter: No

          I’m coming down

_ Now _

  
  


“I’ve got to go, Mr. Stark, but it was nice working with you,” Peter says, doing his best to conceal his nervousness with professionalism.

 

Mr. Stark glances at his watch. “Yeesh, five already.” He wipes his hands off on a rag. “Come back next week, kid. This was fun.”

 

“S-sure thing, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, grabbing his backpack, unable to keep his stuttering at bay with the unexpected invitation.

 

Ned is going to go crazy when he tells him about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love your comments so much!!!<3
> 
> So many of you reading this. 402 subs and 587 kudos! thank you so much! and like there's a 13-year-old and a 31-year-old reading this and you guys think I'm a freshman in high school to 24 years old. I love Ao3 because I've got someone who isn't a native English speaker someone Brazilian, an Australian, and a Scandinavian reading this!! <3 <3 <3 <3


	4. Stupid, Ridiculously Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony... notices things.

“What even is your life, Peter?” Alex asks shaking her head as Peter sits down beside her with a tray full of food.

 

“Good?” Peter says unsurely. Sure, right now it’s pretty good, but overall, the good and the bad seem to balance out to neutral. His experiences seem pretty unique, but unique doesn’t always mean valuable. His parents are dead, but he’s on a full ride to a well known private school. His uncle is dead, but he’s working for SI while he’s 15 and just spent two hours working with Tony Stark. He has superpowers, but he can’t tell anybody about them.

 

Claire laughs. “How on Earth did you get Tony Stark to notice you?” She brushes her hands together to get the salt from the french fries off.

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe you were right, Alex,” Peter says, taking a bite of food.

 

“What part?” Alex asks.

 

“When he first stopped by, I think it was you that said he was impressed with me,” Peter says, his voice wavering with unsureness.

 

“That does sound like something I would say,” Alex comments before shoving her face full of alfredo pasta.

 

Peter swallows a french fry and shrugs. “Who’s to say? He could have noticed me for a lot of reasons.”

 

There’s a few moments of silence before Claire shakes herself back to reality. “Hey… what the fuck is color? I mean scientifically I understand it… but like morally?”

 

“You’re asking what color is in a moral sense?” Peter asks.

 

“No… not really, but what is it… really… in the grand scheme of the infinite multiverse. What the hell is color?”

 

“How am I friends with you guys?” Peter asks shaking his head.

 

Alex opts to ignore Peter’s question. “I mean color, like music, is just wiggly air… and well…”

 

“Light is fake isn’t it?” Claire asks.

 

“Oh yeah, I mean it creates energy and shit, but like in terms of our eyes… we’re just kind of making it up.”

 

“I’m going to go bury my head in the dirt,” Peter says, standing up to go to the bathroom.

 

“Light still exists even when you can’t see it though, there is still light if everyone were to lose their eyes,” Claire says.

 

“Fair point…” Alex’s voice drifts off into the crowd of people as Peter heads to the restroom.

 

^*^

 

“Dude!”

 

“I know right!”

 

“Dude!”

 

Peter grins as he tells Ned about yesterday’s visit with Mr. Stark, finally feeling like he can soak up the excitement of the event. “Do you still think he was looking for me all those weeks ago?”

 

“Of course he was!” Ned answers. “He came and found you after all that time! Is he going to invite you to work with him again?”

 

“I mean… he said to come back next week… but I don’t really know how…”

 

“What do you mean?” Ned asks, closing his locker.

 

Peter winces at the sharp sound of bell ringing loudly. “I’ll tell you about it later! I’ve gotta go and so do you!” Peter rushes out, zipping up his backpack, slamming his locker and sprinting down the hallway.

 

^*^

 

“Hey, Penis!” Peter internally groans at the voice. “I hear your still spreading rumors about your internship. Now I hear you’ve upped the ante, did my ears deceive me or did you claim to work with Tony Stark himself?”

 

Peter turns around in the unfortunately deserted hallway to face Flash. “My internship is real, Flash. I don’t need to prove it to you.”

 

“It’s fake, Parker. Just admit it.”

 

“I’m sorry, Flash…” He inches closer to the door, ready to sprint out of them into the parking lot that has a few people getting rides home from decathlon practice. “But you’re not a very nice person.” Peter sprints. He decides he’s not very good at making up insults when he’s not in his suit.

 

He soon finds himself in an alley definitely far away from Flash. He opens his backpack and quickly changes into his Spider-Man ‘suit’. It’s just a hoodie, sweat pants, and technologically advanced goggles, but it works. Peter snaps on his web shooters and starts patrol for the day.

 

^*^

 

“Hey, honey,” May greets when Peter comes home that evening. “How was practice?”

 

“It was fine,” Peter tells her.

 

“Sorry again that I wasn’t home last night.” She pats the spot on the couch next to her and Peter sets down his backpack as he sits down next to her. “How was your internship yesterday?”

 

“Oh my gosh! I haven’t told you yet!” Stars light up excitedly in his eyes. “Mr. Stark invited me up to his lab!”

 

“Oh my goodness! Peter, that’s so amazing!” May smiles, wapping Peter up in a tight hug.

 

Peter happily goes into detail of everything he and Mr. Stark did together, May nodding along with a smile only understanding about 12% of what Peter says.

 

^*^

 

When Peter goes to Stark Industries the following Tuesday, something unusual happens.

 

“Greetings, Mr. Parker,” a feminine synthesized voice says when he enters the usual elevator, with the same well lit interior and slightly worn carpeting.

 

Peter stiffens at the sound coming from the speakers. “Hello?” Peter asks.

 

“Mr. Stark has requested me to guide you to his labs,” she tells him as the elevator starts moving.

 

Mr. Stark _does_ want to work with him again! “W-who are you?” Peter asks, gripping his backpack.

 

“I apologize, Mr. Parker. I am FRIDAY, Mr. Starks AI system. I run the tower and Mr. Stark’s suits.” The elevator stops and Peter steps out.

 

“So you’re everywhere in the building?” Peter asks as he follows the green pathway lit for him.

 

“Indeed, Mr. Parker.”

 

“Cool,” Peter admires with a grin.

 

^*^

 

A pattern emerges. Peter works with Mr. Stark once a week, working in the intern labs the other day and using the time to make more web fluid. Mr. Stark’s schedule is, lightly put, inconsistent. Some weeks they won’t see each other and the next they’ll work with each other both days.

 

Mr. Stark emails him the days that they’ll work together. Peter finds it helpful because it means on the day’s he’s working with an adult who can’t seem to keep track of time for the life of him, he can swing most of the way to the tower and stop any minor crimes on the way.

 

This only becomes a problem one day in late November.

 

Peter takes off his jacket and lets it fall on the back of his chair. He returns to work, now free from the bulky sleeves, unaware of the bruises that litter his arms.

 

<>*<>

 

In the corner of Tony’s vision, he spots a deep purple stain on Peter’s arm. He looks up and studies the mark, finding more like it on other spots and on his other arm. Some look fresh, while others have the yellowing hue of an almost healed bruise.

 

Something in the core of his being cracks slightly. What are the bruises doing there? Who was hurting Peter?

 

He continued to scrutinize the marks until Peter looked up and gave him a questioning glance. He returns to his work, thoughts sprinting around his head. They continue to run around his mind violently until Peter’s phone vibrates.

 

“Hey, Peter?” Tony asks.

 

“Yeah?” Peter answers, typing a reply to his friends. Tony had learned over the weeks that Claire, Peter, and Alex had bonded over being the youngest employees in the building, with both Claire and Alex being sophomores in college.

 

“Where did you get those bruises?” He does his best to keep his tone neutral and he’s pretty sure he succeeded.

 

Peter freezes momentarily, only a fraction of a breath caught on the exhale and a minuscule pause of his thumbs show a difference. “I-I,” Peter stutters out. “I kept running into doors today…” Peter looks down, seeming a little embarrassed by the confession.

  
_But most of those bruises_ **_have_ ** _to be older than today_ , Tony wants to say, but he bites his tongue, not wanting to push. “Alright, weirdo,” Tony says instead. “Go have dinner with your friends.”


	5. Just Bumps and Bruises

Peter shouldn’t have skipped lunch. If he hadn’t skipped lunch the bruises would be gone by now. 

 

“Where did you get those bruises?” Tony asks. He’d been staring at them earlier but looked away when Peter caught him.

 

_ Why didn’t I wear long sleeves, it’s winter? _ “I-I,” he stutters. What sounds believable? Before he got his powers he would have lots of bruises, a few from flash, but mostly from running into things. It would happen is bursts, just a day full of knocking into shit and then nothing for a week or two. “I kept running into doors today…” He looks down, the lie sinks in him, a snake coiling around his stomach.

 

“Alright, weirdo,” Tony says, thankfully believing him. “Go have dinner with your friends.”

 

Peter shrugs on his jacket and leaves with a “Goodnight, Mr. Stark.”

 

^*^

 

Peter doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being thankful for the Stark Industries food court. A restaurant or two for every nationality, all of it wonderful. Italian, Persian, Puerto Rican, you name it, you could get food from. Best of all it’s completely complimentary. Anyone, guest or staff, could get as much food as they wanted (though they were hard pressed not to waste, you can always go back for more).

 

Peter’s been making his way through the different cultures and countries, hoping to try all of them by the end of the year. Despite this, he loves Italian food, so he thinks he might not make it.

 

He piles his plate with zucchini, fettuccine alfredo, and garlic bread. He surveys the seating area, quickly finding Claire and Alex sitting in their usual spot.

 

Out of all the people Peter thinks he could talk to about him being Spider-man, Alex is probably at the top of the list. Not because of trust or anything like that (okay maybe a little trust), but because of reaction. May and Claire would mother him to death and tell him to stop, Mr. Stark and MJ would probably just tell him to stop, and Ned would be so excited he would tell the whole school. Alex would probably just go with it; they would think it was exciting but never tell a soul. They would help as much as they could but stop if they became overbearing.

 

Peter sets his plate down next to Claire. “-And then I told her to fuck off.”

 

“Nice,” Alex says,” she deserved it.

 

“Who are you talking about?” Peter asks as he puts his backpack on the floor.

 

“That bitch, Kaity Miggler,” Claire answers passionately, she’s a fire ready to burn Kaity Miggler to the ground.

 

“She said Susie looked like a hobo again,” Alex provides.

 

“Who’s Susie again?” Peter asks him, taking a bite of zucchini.

 

“Blond hair, blue eyes, tall as hell but doesn’t seem to know,” he says.

 

“Well, what do you mean ‘again’?” Peter asks. “Has this happened before?”

 

“Yeah, she’s said it to Susie at least twice. She’s said it to me one time I didn’t take a shower,” Claire says.

 

“You guys should like… go to H.R.?” Peter says.

 

“We could do that… or we could ignore her like we always do,” Alex suggests.

 

“Oh! Peter!” Claire exclaims, a grin stretching across her face.

 

“What?” Peter asks, fork halfway to his mouth.

 

“Alex and I have something important to tell you,” Claire says. Peter spots the blush creeping shyly across Alex’s face.

 

“Yeah?” Peter asks.

 

“We’re dating!” Alex blurts out.

 

_ Fucking finally _ , Peter thinks. “Oh! That's great!” Peter says, a slight smile on his face.

 

^*^

 

When the dramatics of the afternoon and late evening are done, Peter sneaks into an alleyway and changes into costume. He swings home as fast as he can, stopping a few minor crimes on the way.

 

^*^

 

“You know, I never asked,” Pepper says Friday evening. Tony organized a semi-casual date night for them, choosing to stay inside the tower. Tony makes a small, questioning noise. “What got you so interested in Peter?”

 

“I don’t know…” Tony starts. “I got bored one day and I saw a  _ kid _ doing work that college graduates were doing. I wanted to know who he was. He’s imaginative and smart, smarter than me maybe.” Pepper raises her eyebrows at the confession. Maybe this kid was good for him. “He became a bit of a puzzle for me because he never mentioned his parents or anyone other than friends and his aunt. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t look him up, but eventually, I couldn’t help myself.” Tony sighs, mentally preparing himself to tell the morbid tale as briefly as possible. “His aunt is all he has left. His uncle got shot a little over a year ago, and his parents died in a plane crash when he was four.”

 

“Oh my goodness, poor kid,” Pepper mumbled.

 

“I don’t know, I just… I want him to stay happy. I think it would take a lot to break this kid down, and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen… or if it does, that I’ll be there to help him up.”

 

“He… he seems like a sweet kid, Tony. It looks good on you,” Pepper says.

 

“What does?” Confusion sweeps through Tony’s face.

 

“Caring about someone like this,” Pepper clarifies. “It looks good on you, he makes you happy.”

 

“He’s a fucking angel,” Tony says, looking out the window across the cityscape.

 

“Maybe I should meet him sometime… or you could introduce him to the other Avengers, I’m sure he’d like that,” Pepper suggests.

 

“Hmm… I don’t know.”

 

Pepper snorts. “You just don’t want to share him.”

 

“Hey now, it's not like I’m the kid’s dad,” Tony defends.

 

“I don’t know, you look awful similar,” Pepper teases with a smirk.

 

“Babe! Don’t joke about that!”

 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You looked him up, do you know what his mom’s name was?”

 

“FRIDAY?”

 

“Peter’s mother was Mary Parker, passed away in 2005. You met briefly at an event two months before Peter was born which she attended with her husband,” Friday’s synthetic voice calls back.

 

“See? I’m not his dad.”

 

“I was joking, Tony. But I guess it’s still good to know.” Pepper leans forward into Tony, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before standing up. “I’m going to look into getting Peter a chance to meet the other Avengers.”

 

Pepper is almost out of the room when Tony speaks up. “Hey, Pepper?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do kids run into things a lot?” he asks.

 

“Depends on the kid I guess, but some are more clumsy than others,” Pepper says.

 

“I’ve never seen Peter bump into anything, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“Never mind, I’ll figure it out later…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people! As of posting 519 subscribers and 805 kudos! Amazing I love you guys and your amazing comments! 
> 
> Shout out once again to my beta for being the best at her work!
> 
> Question for you guys (inspired by defendedbymypen), Who of you write Spider-man/Spider-verse fanfiction? Cause we stan shameless self-promotion, tell me! I'll read it!


	6. In-between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this week cause next week's is going to be longer and this was the most comfortable chapter break.

Bruises still litter Peter’s skin from the previous night’s patrol. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. He creeps to the bathroom, trying not to alert May of his presence. Quietly, he closes the door behind him and methodically goes through the cabinets. He spots the concealer and snatches it, making sure to remember where it goes.

 

The bruises ache as he taps the concealer onto them. He’s not really sure it’s what he’s supposed to be doing, but it’ll work for now.

 

Peter finishes getting ready for school, grabbing a granola bar and a banana as he heads out.

 

“Ah, ah!” Comes May’s chide as he turns the doorknob. Peter turns back to his aunt, moving a few steps closer to lean over the counter and let her give him a kiss on the cheek.

 

He gives a hurried, muffled, “Bye, May,” as he crams the bar in his mouth and heads back to the door once more.

 

“Oh! I’m working a late shift this evening so I won't be here when you get home!” May says quickly as Peter gives a wave behind him and finally escapes the apartment.

 

^*^

 

No one notices anything until gym when Peter has to change. Fucking gym class.

 

“Hey, Penis!” Flash shouts. “Are you wearing makeup?”

 

Peter says the first thing that comes to mind, which is probably a mistake. “Were you watching me changing? Isn’t that a little gay?” Flash answers with a stunned look and getting back to changing.

 

Gym class with Flash is hell on a good day, but on a day where he’s pre-provoked… he can only narrowly miss so many basketballs. For an hour he lets the dull words and hard rubber hit him, only able to dodge a few without some gymnastic feat. Flash had the unfortunate skill of being able to tell when adults are looking at him. Peter does too, courtesy of his sixth sense, self-dubbed the ‘ _spidey-sense_ ’, but he uses this power for less destructive purposes.

 

By the end of class, he feels like he’s got layers of bruises. Some fresh and some half healed. This is not a day for skipping lunch in favor of patrol.

 

^*^

 

**TS**

 

TS: You’re working with me today, kid.  
_Now_

 

You: Okay, see you at 3ish Mr. Stark  
_Now_

 

TS: You know you don’t have to say that? It’s always at almost 3, that’s not going to change.  
_Now_

 

You: Okay Mr.Stark  
_Now_

 

^*^

 

By the time there were ten minutes left in class Peter was sure the bruises had long since healed. After Mr. Stark called him out on his injuries last time he doesn’t want to risk anything. Peter’s hand shoots up in the air as usual, much to his teacher’s annoyance. Peter’s hand being raised in last period had become a sign that everyone should pack up and that class was over other than passing out homework.

 

Mr. Attrige gives a small sigh of defeat as he grabs the stack of homework, handing one to Peter before moving onto the rest of the students. Peter accepts it, slipping it in his backpack for easy access to do on the bus, and leaves the room with an excited smile on his face.

 

When Peter gets on the bus, all the seats are full and there are a few people are standing. One stop later a quarter of the passengers exit the bus, leaving a few seats open even after people from the stop get on. Peter takes it and pulls out his physics homework.

 

**4.1 Torque Introduction Practice**

**Conceptual**

  1.  Explain (a) how it is possible for a large force to produce only a small or even zero, torque, and (b) how it is possible for a small force to produce a large torque.



 

 _Easy_. Peter thinks, the information fresh in his mind from class.

 

  1. _a. A large force can produce a small torque when the length of the lever arm is small.  If the length of the lever arm is 0 meters, then it doesn’t matter how large the force is, the torque will always be 0 newton meters._
  2. _In order for a small force to produce a large torque, the length of the lever arm must be very long._



  


Soon he’s finished the first four problems and the bus has arrived at Stark Industries. Peter snaps his calculator shut, and carefully slips the paper back in his backpack between two binders. A shock of red fabric catches his eye as he puts his calculator away, reminding him that even if he hadn’t gone out yet, he can always go out on the way home from the lab and after dinner. Zipping his backpack shut and swinging it over his shoulder as he stands up, Peter walks off the bus.

 

He goes through the normal motions, crossing the street, going through security, heading up to Mr. Stark’s lab. Today might have started with dowsing water on a grease fire, but that was never going to tame Peter’s excitement for working with Mr. Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 thanks for reading!


	7. Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter, as promised, just a day late... I think I'm going to try a new upload pattern.

As soon as the notes drifted into Peter’s ears when he steps out of the elevator, he decides the song is a bop. He steps along to the beat, realizing that the music is coming from Mr. Stark’s lab. Odd, he’d never heard Mr. Stark playing music before. Peter recognizes the artist from somewhere, but he can’t quite place it.

 

As he reaches the door, the song finishes playing and a new one starts. Peter finds he can sing along with this one. “ _ Hey, hovering sombrero, gently waving in the air above the meadow, softly floating in the sky outside the window. Hovering sombrero, don't be shy,  _ ” Peter sings along as he grabs his phone. Mr. Stark isn’t in the room. Did he forget? Did something come up?

 

Just as he’s about to send off a text, he hears the elevator door open. Mr. Stark hums along to the song as he walks down the short corridor from the lab. Peter searches his mind as to why he knows the song, why does he know the lyrics?  _ Well, some of the lyrics. _ Peter thinks, mentally correcting himself. 

 

“Hey, kid,” Mr. Stark greets. “You know this song?”

 

“Kinda?” Peter answers with uncertainty. “What is it?”

 

“Hovering Sombrero by They Might Be Giants published: 2001,” FRIDAY answers.

 

“Oh!” Peter exclaims. He doesn’t see Mr. Stark’s curious gaze asking for more information. “Hey, why don’t you play music more often?”

 

“Pepper told me not to, my music taste has a tendency to make people run from the room.” Mr. Stark winks. “Might scare you off. I usually listen to less… happy sounding music.”

 

Peter gives a chuckle. “Nah, I like T-M-B-G. My-” Peter cuts himself off.  _ He doesn’t need to hear that, _ Peter silently reminds himself.

 

“What was that?” Mr. Stark asks, sitting down beside him.

 

“Nothing,” Peter says quickly, giving a small smile and hoping it’s convincing. “I just haven’t listened to them in a few years.”  _ Probably not since 2007. _

 

“Did you have anything you wanted to work on?”

 

“Nah, we finished up-”

 

Mr. Stark cuts him off. “Great!” he kicks himself away from the table, sending him spinning around the room dramatically. “I have a fantastic new idea.”

 

Peter pinches his eyebrows together with curious confusion. “Yeah?” He asks, standing up and walking over to the screen Mr. Stark was pulling stuff up on.

 

“So I was thinking-” Peter tenses as he sees the red and blue costume shoot across the screen. “-we could make a suit for the Spider guy.”

 

_ He doesn’t know. _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

_ He doesn’t  _ **_fucking_ ** _ know. _

 

An amused grin glitters on Peter’s face for a moment before he corrects it to an excited one. “That would be awesome, Mr. Stark!” Peter cheers. “I’ve thought about this before ya know-”

 

Mr. Stark gives a small laugh. “Yeah, kid, I know. You were trying to figure out what his webs were made of one of the first times we talked.” Peter runs and grabs his notebook, flipping to one of the less incriminating pages that showed off what he’d been working on.

 

“ _ Web formula five point seven _ ? Kid, how the hell have you already worked on this suit more than me?” Mr. Stark looks like he’s just won the award for best dad joke.

 

“Well, I-I just thought- um- Well, he works around queens usually, and I’ve seen him around a few times- I… yeah?” Peter says, having trouble finding words that won't screw him over. 

“It was rhetorical,” Mr. Stark says smirking.

 

“So, do you even know who Spider-man is? Why do you trust him enough to make a suit for him?” Peter asks quickly.

 

“No… I don’t know who he is… But that's not important yet!” Mr. Stark says. Peter gives a deep sigh as soon as Mr. Stark turns away, relaxing all his muscles. “I think there’s a clear first step here…”

 

_ What the hell is your life? _ “What?”

 

“What should it look like and what should we make it out of?” Mr. Stark smirks.

 

This launches them into hours of work. Peter spends a significant amount of time sketching suit patterns. 

 

At one point Peter slips his jacket off, Mr. Stark keeps temperatures oddly high in the lab. Peter can feel Mr. Stark’s eyes on him as he sets his jacket over the back of his chair, unsurreptitiously staring at him. He hopes Mr. Stark doesn’t notice the makeup and is eternally glad he chose to take the bus today.

 

^*^

 

Pepper walks into the lab, reading an email on her tablet. “Hey Tony, it’s getting late. What do you want for dinner?” She looks up on the last word, not finding the room quite as she expected. The lab is more of a mess than usual for starters. There are screens open all across the room, each with different sketches for a suit. Then there’s the teenager sitting in front of one continuing the sketch on one of them. “What on Earth are you two doing? Why is Peter still here? It’s eight thirty!”

 

“Pep! We’re making a suit for Spider-man,” Tony greets his girlfriend cheerfully.

 

Peter spins around in his chair grabbing his phone to check the time. “Shit! I mean shoot! Fuck,” he swears, saying the last word in a whisper and his face pinching together momentarily. 

 

“I’ll call Happy to take you home, Peter,” Pepper says kindly.

 

“Pepper, you already said after dinner, we’ve got to feed him first.” He stands up and puts his hands on Peter’s head making him look at Pepper. “Are you really going to send this precious boy home hungry?” Tony pleads childishly.

 

Pepper relents easily with a smile, having no reason to fight the idea. “Call your Aunt, Peter. We wouldn’t want her worrying about you.”

 

Peter gets out his phone and starts texting his aunt. “So,” Pepper starts. “What would you like for dinner Peter?”

 

<>*<>

 

**May**

 

You: Hey, May. I know you’re still at work. I’ll probably be home before you, but just in case I’m not, I’m with Mr. Stark at the labs. We lost track of time and worked late, so now Ms. Potts is getting us dinner.

Love you

<3

_ Now _

 

“So, what would you like for dinner, Peter?” Pepper asks when he puts down his phone.

 

“Let’s get him something he’s never tried before,” Mr. Stark suggest energetically.

 

“Nothing too fancy, Tony, I don’t think I have the energy for it,” Pepper comments.

 

“Babe, you overwork yourself.” 

 

Pepper snorts and mutters something that sounds like “Pot meet kettle.” 

 

“Take out it is then! I’m going to say… the entire menu of our favorite Indian place? Any leftovers we can serve tomorrow as some kind of fun buffet for the interns or something.”

 

“I’ll get on that,” Pepper says. “You two should clean up.”

 

It’s kind of cute watching Pepper and Mr. Stark interact. It’s like quintessential positive functional romantic relationship. 

 

^*^

 

“So, Peter, tell me about yourself,” Pepper prompts.

 

“Uh, well, um, I like science.” Pepper gives a small laugh.

 

“I mean… what kinds of things do you do outside of school when you aren’t here? What electives do you take?”

 

“Oh, um, I take a photography class, and I’m on the decathlon team,” Peter says, opening another container of rice.

 

“That’s cool, can we see some of your stuff?” Mr. Stark asks.

 

“Oh, uh, I’d rather not, Mr. Stark,” Peter says shyly.

 

“I think we’re past the point where you can call me Tony, kid,” Mr. Stark says.

 

“I’m surprised you let him call you that in the first place,” Pepper comments. Mr. Stark gives a shrug.

 

“Okay, M- Tony.”

 

^*^

 

“Okay, kid, come on. I’ve got Happy waiting for you to take you home,” Tony says.

 

“You didn’t have to do that--”

 

“Yes I did, I’m not going to have your aunt complaining to me about how you got hypothermia or were mugged on the way home,” Tony insists, pushing Peter into the car.

  
“Thank you for dinner, Tony!” Peter tells him as the door closes.  _ Today was a good day, _ Peter thinks as the car pulls away from SI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for 1000 kudos (1291)!! That's amazing!!
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	8. Can I have a Peppermint?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter learns something new.

Peter’s entire body, mind, and soul is groaning. Why is everything so incredibly fucked?

 

Peter gets anxious when he lets himself think about the future, so he does his best to not let himself explore the hypothetical paths. He can only do that if he realizes what he’s doing. He didn’t. He failed to recognize the consequences of his thoughts, and now he lays curled up on his bed, his stomach an anxious knot, dreading the world to come. 

 

The worst part is, it’s entirely his fault. Why did he tangle himself in this web (ha ha fuck you) of secrets? If there’s any adult Peter could tell about being a superhero, it’s the fucking superhero.

 

But now he’s dug himself into this godforsaken pit of lies by omission. It’s his fault- he accepts full responsibility. If he could go back and change something he would. He doesn’t know what he would change, but he would change  _ something _ . 

 

School will be fine, school has nothing to do with Spider-man. He can face school. He  _ should _ face school. School has nothing to do with the anxious knot in him and his entire existence feeling like a constant everlasting groan.

 

He groans, it sounds more like a growl, but it’s a groan. At least, at the  _ very _ least, Mr. Sta--  _ Tony _ has already texted him that he’s got a meeting this afternoon. 

 

Peter gets up and gets ready for school. He takes a shower, he was still covered in the grime from last night’s patrol, he grabs some breakfast, he lets May kiss him goodbye, and heads to school.

 

^*^

 

The entire room smells like peppermint. Now that it’s after Thanksgiving, they’ve gone all out decoration wise. The entire room screams ‘winter’. Snowflakes are sprinkled all over the room. The proper kind, with six fold symmetry. There are candy canes everywhere, every other table has a cup full of them. One would think they’d get in the way, but they don’t seem to be bothering anyone.

 

Peter knows the smell is peppermint, but it’s different than the last time. He hadn’t had a candy cane in a long while, which wasn’t a problem, he doesn’t love them.

 

Peter wrinkles his nose at the peppermint, getting used to the slightly irritating scent. He sits down and gets ready to work, pulling a candy cane out of the cup. He starts work on some code, before remembering the candy cane. 

 

He unwraps it halfway. “Hey, Peter!” Claire exclaims. “I dare you to bite through it like the heathen you are!” He barely considers the dare before chomping harshly into the candy cane, crushing it into shards like sweet glass. 

 

It was a mistake. His throat feels tight, and his sinuses are on fire. Everything hurts. That’s new…

 

<>*<>

 

Fuck. No. Cinthia can not have the one minor in the room die. What the hell is this kid? He’s not choking, he’s having some kind of allergic reaction. 

 

“FRIDAY,” she commands. “Get a doctor down here immediately, and run a scan on Peter.” 

 

“It has already been done, Ms. Cho is on her way,” FRIDAY responds.

 

^*^

 

Peter slowly blinks his eyes open. His limbs feel heavy and his skin feels numb. There’s a slight achy squeezing sensation all over. 

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Parker,” a woman’s voice came from next to him.

 

“What happened?” Peter asks, trying to discern his surroundings. It certainly feels like something happened. The room looks like a nurses office without all the pictures of favorite students and cards from kids. Something about the view from the window looks vaguely familiar, but it’s off. “Where am I?”

 

“You’re on one of the Stark Industries medical floors. You ate a candy cane and had a severe allergic reaction. You are allergic to peppermint.”

 

“Mrs.-- Sorry, what’s your name?” Peter asks.

 

“Doctor Helen Cho, I take care of the Avengers you know.”

 

“Dr. Cho, I feel like I’m a little below your pay grade…” Peter  pinches his pointer finger between his thumb and middle finger.

 

“I was already here for Mr. Rogers, I was the closest locatable medic in the area. You are lucky it wasn’t someone else, Mr. Parker. The fewer people that know about your spidery tendencies the better from your perspective it seems.” Peter tenses, waiting for more, not breaking eye contact.

 

“Please don’t tell Mr. Stark.”  _ Tony _ , Peter mentally reminds himself.

 

“Relax, I’m your doctor and he isn’t your guardian, I don’t have to tell him anything,” Dr. Cho says with a smile. “Did you know that spiders really don’t like peppermint?” 

 

Peter shakes his head. “Good to know, I guess.”

 

“How long have you had your powers?” 

 

“About a year,” Peter says, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket draped over his legs. “When can I get out of here?”

 

“Soon, I just want to check on your breathing again.” She checks his breathing and tells him he should go home instead of going back to the labs.

 

“Okay, that sounds good.”

 

“Take care of yourself, kid. I work with mutants all the time. If you need someone who knows, come to me. I know what I’m doing.”

 

Peter smiles. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Dr. Cho.”

 

^*^

 

Peter slips in his earbuds, leaning back in his seat on the bus. He can’t have peppermint. That's good to know. It’s weird… because he can definitely have salt and spiders are allergic to that. It might be because humans are supposed to have salt in their diet. He should watch out for that, lowering his salt intake might change something.

 

Another weird thing is May’s absence. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he’s surprised that May didn’t come pick him up. Maybe Dr.Cho was playing it safe. Or forgot to take into account that he’s a minor when everyone else she typically works with definitely isn't.

 

^*^

 

“So, I’m allergic to peppermint,” Peter says calmly. 

 

May lets out a long sigh. “What happened?”

 

“I ate a candy cane. Fun things didn’t happen,” Peter tries to lighten the mood.

 

“Well, I’m going to go throw away the peppermint oil…” May says, standing up from the couch and walking into the kitchen to rummage through the room for anything that could be potentially hazardous for Peter’s new allergy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be posting every other Tuesday from now on! On the off days for this fic, I'll be posting my other fic. 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	9. Mr. Clint and a Flesh Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint Barton, an Exacto knife, and a soldering iron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Beta read! feel free to reread!

“Who are you?” A voice asks as Peter steps out of the elevator. He has light brown hair and is wearing mostly black. 

 

“Uh, I’m Peter.” He shoots out his hand for a handshake. Why does he recognize this guy? The man shakes his hand.

 

“Okay, Peter, what ’s a short stack like yourself doing up here?” The man asks. Something clicks in Peter’s mind. Who else would have a bow and quiver? It’s Hawkeye.

 

Peter swallows. “I work with Mi- Tony sometimes,”  _ Oh no, damn it, what’s his last name? _ “Mr. Clint.”  _ Good fucking enough I guess. _

 

“Sure…” Hawkeye agrees.

 

“I should, um, get going. Sorry, Mr. Clint,” Peter rushes out, starting to walk away. 

 

“Hey, kid,” Hawkeye says. He pulls something out of his pocket and the familiarly unpleasant smell reaches Peter like a bullet train colliding with a mile long cube of jello. “Want a candy cane?” Peter does his best not to show any distaste.

 

“Oh, no thank you,” Peter politely declines. Suddenly there’s another person in the hallway. 

 

“He doesn’t want your candy cane, Barton,” Tony snaps.  _ So that’s what his last name is. _ Peter stares wide eyed at him, and he turns to meet Peter’s gaze. “You okay kiddo?”

 

“Yeah? I’m fine Mi- Tony?” Peter says, confusion lacing his words and his eyebrows pinching together. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Cause you’re allergic to peppermint.” Tony grips his shoulder and pushes him away from Mr. Barton.

 

“Yeah, this guy made everyone get rid of their peppermint candy canes. All of them are those weird flavors now, and people are going through the chocolate ones before I can get to them,” Mr. Barton says.

 

“How did you even know about that?” Peter asks. “I only found out four and a half days ago.”

 

“Peter, I know everything that happens in this building.” Tony pauses and turns to glare at Mr. Barton. “I just didn’t realize Katniss here was going to wait in the hallway for you.” 

 

Tony tugs lightly on Peter’s shoulder to direct him towards the lab. “Bye, Mr. Barton,” Peter says turning his head back slightly as he moves forward.

 

“Stick with Mr. Clint, Peter,” Mr. Clint says as he turns and walks towards the elevator. Mr-  _ Tony _ releases a quiet snort that Peter is sure no normal human could have heard.

 

All the screens they had open the previous week were, though more organized than they had been, open all around the lab. “Ready to get back to work?” Mr- _ Tony _ asks.

 

“Yeah!” Peter smiles as he sets his backpack down less than gently and rushes over to a screen with a model for the web shooters open.

 

<>*<>

 

“So, a little while ago, Pepper suggested that I introduce you to the Avengers,” Tony says. 

 

“Shit.” It’s all Tony hears from Peter as something hard crashes to the floor. He glances over to Peter to see that he’s ripped a gaping hole through the arm of his jacket, which begins to collect blood. Tony searches the area for the source of the tear, finding his Exacto knife on the floor next to the soldering iron.

 

No matter what people say about the world slowing down when the people you care about are in danger, the world isn’t slow enough. If anything, time is moving faster. 

 

“Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters as he launches into action. He swipes the tools off the floor as Peter clutches at the cut. Tony jogs over to the first aid kit and brings it over. Peter has taken off his jacket and is using it to put pressure on the bleed. Tony ignores the old bruises on Peter’s arms and gets to work cleaning up the wound.

 

Peter moves the cloth out of the way with a sharp breath and Tony immediately notices the tiny pieces of metal in it. Peter’s teeth are clenched together, he hasn’t spoken a word since the initial swear. Tony pushes Peter towards the lab skins on the far side of the room. He has Peter run his arm under water for a moment as he opens the hydrogen peroxide. Peter’s breathing is short and harsh and his eyes are glossy like he’s holding back tears.  _ Poor kid, _ Tony thinks as he pours the harsh liquid over the wound.

 

Tony is glad to see, as the bubbles pop away and the solder sits in the bottom of the sink, that the wound is not very deep. It is, however, long. It runs from just after Peter’s wrist to almost his elbow. Peter’s left hand goes to poke at the skin, before being grabbed away by Tony before he can reach it. Tony immediately lets go of the cold skin. “Peter, you’re freezing, kid,” Tony says.

 

“Sorry,” is all Peter mutters. Tony ignores him as he gets out the gauze from the kit.

 

<>*<>

 

For Peter, it happened faster than anything. No warning from his spidey senses, no nothing. “Shit.” He knows it’s his fault. He shouldn’t have been that surprised by the offer. He shouldn’t have been holding an Exacto knife at the same time as a soldering iron.

 

He can’t tell how it happened, but he knows it hurts like-- well it hurts like exactly what happened. It hurts like an Exacto knife got stuck to a soldering iron and cut through his skin. He lightly bumped the table one second and a searing pain was digging into his arm the next. He’s infinitely glad he’s wearing the appropriate goggles, because he’s ninety percent sure that some metal flecks came at his eyes.

 

Peter squeezes a hand over the cut. Tony breaths out a “Jesus Christ.” and runs across the room. Peter’s throat is tight and his eyes are blurry. His breathing is shaky and harsh with the intent of stopping the tears. He takes off his jacket and pushes the cotton with even pressure on the wound.

 

He uncovers it slowly with a hiss of pain when Tony comes back with a first aid kit. He takes a glance at the cut and pushes Peter towards the sink, turning the water on and having Peter hold his arm under the tap for a few moments. When he turned the tap off his spidey sense leaped into action warning him of the impending sting of the hydrogen peroxide.

 

After the bubbles cleared out and the cut was cleaned, Peter moved to poke at the tender flesh to test it. Tony snatched his hand away, releasing it just as fast. “Peter, you’re freezing, kid,” he says.

 

_ Shit, _ Peter thinks.  _ Spiders can’t thermoregulate, can they? I must not be great at it. _

 

“Sorry,” Peter apologizes. _ You idiot, you’re going to get yourself caught. _

 

Tony puts gauze over the wound and wraps it with that stretchy fabric that only adheres to itself that Peter can never remember the name of. 

 

“You are extremely lucky that wasn’t too deep, Kid,” Tony tells him.

  
“Yeah,” Peter agrees awkwardly. _ Probably because it had already started healing the worst of it… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 1500 kudos is wild guys! I really appreciate it! <3 <3 <3 <3


	10. (Some of) The Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets some Avengers, but why does _Thor_ have to be there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter has been beta read, so if you want to go back and read it go ahead!

Peter keeps his arm as still as he can as Tony gently keeps the gauze in place when he wraps a self adhesive bandage around Peter’s forearm. Tony gets up to put away the first aid kit after securing the bandage with two metal clips, and Peter slips his jacket back over his arms, gathering the fabric of one sleeve above the bandage to avoid irritating his aching wound. He knows that Tony has already seen the bruises, but maybe covering them up will make him forget about them for now.

 

“Now that all sharp and or hot objects are away and not in your hands, do you want to go meet the other Avengers?” Tony asks after he puts the first aid kit back.

 

“I… I mean.. We could,” Peter says quietly. His right arm is completely still, but his left fingernails are flicking past each other with a small  _ fip _ .

 

“What’s wrong, kid?” Tony asks, taking a seat on the stool next to Peter’s.

 

“You don’t think they’ll be bothered?” Peter asks shyly, nails still clicking.

 

“Kid, they’re not going to be bothered,” he assures. “They aren’t allowed to. One, because they are the Avengers. We meet excited fans all the time, and you keep your cool better than they usually do. And Two, I’m Tony Stark. They  _ have  _ to listen to me.”

 

“I- Yeah, it’ll probably be better than when I met you,” Peter says, only half joking.

 

“Good. All this stuff can wait.” He gestures to the small, half finished, components of the Spider-Man suit on the table. “We can  go right now.” He pushes on Peter’s back, urging him to stand up. “I’m sure at least a few are on the common floor.”

 

Peter stands up but resists any further pushing from Tony. “Wait.”

 

Tony rolls his eyes with a sigh. “What?”

 

“Who’s going to be there?” Peter looks up with a nervous look in his eyes.

 

“FRIDAY, who is currently on the cooldown floor?” Tony asks.

 

“Legolas, Point Break, Rhodey, Ms. Potts, Agent Romanov, and Wanda are the only ones on the cooldown floor or as Agent Romanov calls it ‘where I wreck everyone at Uno’,” FRIDAY answers.

 

“Uno is not a calm game…” is Peter’s initial reaction. “Wait- who?”

 

“Hawkeye, Thor, War Machine, Pepper, Black Widow, and Scarlet Witch are where we’re going,” Tony informs continuing towards the door. 

 

“Okay.” Peter nods to himself.

 

He follows Tony out of the lab into the hallway. The displays containing the Spider-man suit data close as the door shuts, as do all the lights, conserving power.

 

^*^

 

The cooldown floor is composed of soft colors and soft things. To the left of the elevator, there is a glass wall, decorated with silver to look like foliage. On the other side of the glass, a pool with crystal clear water refracts shimmering lights around the room. The orange pink sunset shines brightly from the glass on the other side of the pool, a harmonized ombre of color. There’s a small kitchen to the right of the elevator, with white marble countertops and shiny silver appliances. 

 

There’s a lounge area with a soft blue couch with five different textured blankets messily thrown on it. There’s another couch that’s a soft red color with gold accents.  _ Very Iron Man _ , Peter thinks. Mr. Clint, Ms. Romanov, Mr. Rhodes, Ms. Maximoff, Thor, and Ms. Potts are sitting on the couch, most with a beer in their hands.

 

Peter’s mind stutters slightly. Oh dear.  _ Thor _ . Why does he have to be so _ fucking _ pretty? Can’t a guy get a break? There sits Thor, god of thunder, drinking beer like he wasn’t Peter’s Bi Awakening. Life just doesn’t like Peter, does she? 

 

“Oop! Tin-man and Half-pint are here!” Mr. Clint says as Peter and Tony walk through the door.

 

“You guys having a party without me?” Tony gasps with blatantly fake offense, dramatically putting a hand on his chest.

 

“Tuesdays you’re either with that kid or in a meeting,” Ms. Romanov says, gesturing to Peter with the hand occupied by her drink. “Of course we’re taking the opportunity to have a party without you.”

 

“Yeah, whatever ya jerks,” Tony says. He wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “This is Peter, he’s my intern.”

 

“Oh, so this is Peter,” Ms. Maximoff says with a thick russian accent. She moves over in her seat to make room for Peter. Peter half notices that there are other spots with room to sit, but chooses to ignore it as Wanda pats the seat. “Come, sit. Tell us about yourself, Peter.” 

 

Peter takes a seat between Thor and Ms. Maximoff. Thor has a large and almost entirely overwhelming presence beside him. He’s taller and, in general, bigger than Peter, and it makes him feel slightly claustrophobic. His heart is beating so fast and he feels like everyone can hear it. He can hear everyone else's heart beats, after all.

 

“What do you want to know?” Peter asks with forced confidence, his voice wavering slightly. He hopes none of them notice his flush. 

 

“You could start with what on Earth happened to your arm,” Pepper suggests. Peter flushes harder in embarrassment. No part of him wanted to tell them, his  _ heroes _ , that he got injured because he was surprised by an offer to meet them in the dumbest way possible.

 

“Even with lab safety measures, some accidents are unavoidable,” Tony explains calmly for him. Peter mentally thanks him, relaxing slightly. 

 

“What did you do to hurt the kid, Stark?” Ms. Romanov asks.

 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Tony quickly defends himself. “If anything this was blameless.”

 

“It was as much your fault as it was mine,” Peter agrees, giving a nod. There’s a playful smirk on his face.

 

“Sure, sure.  _ But what happened _ ?” Mr. Clint presses.

 

“The kid dropped a hot Exacto knife.”

 

“Why was it hot?” Pepper asks.

 

“Unimportant! No one is suing, Pepper! I’m sure it’ll be all better soon,” Tony says quickly.

 

Ms. Maximoff gives the couple a look before turning back to Peter. “How old are you, Peter?” 

 

Peter continues answering their questions until he gets a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1007 Subscribers is honestly amazing! 1803 Kudos is equally amazing, what the hell guys! I really appreciate you all.
> 
> <3 Happy reading!
> 
> Next Update: April 30th, 2019 (4/30/19)


	11. Mjolnir

He glances at the clock on his phone swearing under his breath, it’s seven thirty. “Sorry. It’s my aunt, I’ll be right back,” Peter says, standing up and walking over to the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed before, but he takes note of Thor’s hammer sitting on the counter by the fridge. “Hey, May.”

 

“Peter, where are you?” May’s voice comes through the speaker.

 

“I’m still at the tower, we lost track of time…” Peter says apologetically.

 

“Could you have Mr. Stark’s driver take you home again?” May asks. 

 

“I’ll do my best, I’ll text you with my e.t.a. soon.”

 

“Okay, Peter. I love you,” May says.

 

“I love you, bye,” Peter says, hanging up the phone.

 

“That was your aunt, yeah?” Tony asks, suddenly on the other side of the breakfast bar.

 

“Yeah, I’m running late, so I should probably get home.” Peter doesn’t want to ask for a ride, he doesn’t want to be a bother.

 

“Yeah kid, you missed your bus, right? I’ll have Happy take you home, wait on the couch,” Tony says. “I’ll tell you when you should go down.”

 

Peter nods and starts walking out of the kitchen area.

 

“While you are there, young Peter, would you bring me Mjolnir?” Thor requests.

 

“What?” Peter asks, looking around the kitchen, his back to the Avengers.

 

“My hammer,” Thor clarifies.

 

“Sure, Mr. Thor,” Peter says, walking back over to the noble hammer, clueless to Thor’s smirk.

 

“Oh, Peter, don’t-” Mr. Rhodey starts, cutting himself off as he starts coughing. 

 

Peter easily lifts the hammer before realizing it might actually be heavy to a normal person. Too late now… He walks the hammer over to Thor as casually as he can.

 

“Look at this kid. Literal angel,” Tony whispers to Pepper.

 

Peter glances at him with a raised eyebrow. “Here you go, Mr. Thor.” Peter hands out the hammer.

 

“Thank you, young Peter,” Thor says, seeming a little in awe.

 

“What's wrong?” Peter asks, noticing the shift in the room’s mood.

 

Tony is now grinning widely. Mr. Thor is wearing an amused smile, and everyone else looks entirely awestruck. It’s a little unnerving.

 

“FRIDAY, call Cap up here,” Mr. Clint says quietly. 

 

“He says he’s on his way,” FRIDAY’s synthesized voice responds.

 

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” Peter asks again. All eyes are still on him. His sixth sense is calm but the rest of him is not.

 

“Not everyone can just pick up Thor’s hammer, Peter,” Ms. Romanov explains, slightly breathless. 

 

“What do you mean?” Peter asks. Was it really that much heavier than he thought it was? Sure a nine year old couldn’t pick it up, but is it possible that Mr. Clint couldn’t pick it up?

 

“Clint, would you demonstrate?” Ms. Romanov requests.

 

Mr. Clint tsks and sets down his beer. “ _ Fine _ ,” he groans. He stands up and glances at Thor with a look of ‘can I?’. Thor nods a ‘go ahead’ and Mr. Clint puts both hands firmly on the hammer. He braces himself against the table and attempts to lift it. 

 

It doesn’t move. 

 

Peter hears the elevator door open and footsteps walk through. “Are we really doing this again?” Mr. Roger’s asks. The last time Peter heard that voice he was in gym class.

 

“Cap! Great to see you, we need to prove something to Peter here,” Mr. Clint explains as he releases the hammer and relaxes.

 

Mr. Rogers looks at Peter, and he is infinitely grateful that Mr. Rogers isn’t in uniform.

 

_ Well if it isn’t Captain America.  _ **_But it is me._ ** _ No, it’s an expression--  _ **_Your Nazi tricks won't work on me._ **

 

“I’m Steve,” Mr. Rogers introduces, sticking out his hand to Peter.

 

“Yeah, I- I know who you are. I’m Peter.” He takes his hand and gives it a shake, hoping he isn’t squeezing too tight, and if he is Mr. Rogers won't notice.

 

“So you guys want me to try and lift this thing again to prove that I can’t?” Mr. Rogers asks, turning away from Peter.

 

“I’m still confused, why can’t you guys pick it up?” Peter asks.

 

Thor opens his mouth to answer, but Tony cuts him off. “Don’t answer that point break. I want to see this first.”

 

Mr. Rogers sets himself up the same way Mr. Clint did.

 

He pulls.

 

The hammer budges, but the movement is so miniscule it takes some effort to notice.

 

Mr. Rogers releases his breath and lets go of the hammer. 

 

Peter looks at it for a moment before crouching down to study the hammer closer. Peter puts his hand around the base of the hammer, not yet pulling. “Don’t hurt yourself, so-” Mr. Rogers starts, cutting himself off quickly. Peter easily lifts the hammer into the air.

 

Peter easily swings the hammer towards Mr. Rogers, pointing it at him. “Why can’t you pick it up?” he questions.

 

Mr. Rogers is frozen holding his hands up like there’s a loaded weapon aimed at him. “Watch where you point that thing, son. I’ve seen too much lightning come out of it.” Peter puts the hammer back down. “Now, Thor, please explain to this kid why he can pick up your hammer and the rest of us can’t.”

 

“Very well, Steven.” Thor looks Peter directly in the eyes and Peter is instantly entranced. “Only the worthy can pick up Mjolnir, and that can are rightful rulers of Asgard.” Peter picks the hammer back up and stares at it.

 

“What? Like… Excalibur?” Peter asks.

 

“Pretty much, kid,” Mr. Rhodey answers. 

 

“ _ What the fuck _ ,” he whispers under his breath. No one gives any sign that they hear it.

 

Peter turns to Thor and thrusts the hammer towards him. “Uh, thanks, Mr. Thor, but I’m fine on Earth. I don’t really want to be the ruler of anything.”

 

Thor takes the hammer from him and Peter’s heart rate increases.  _ Fucking Thor _ . “That is a very mature decision, young Peter.”

 

Peter opens his mouth, half a thought ready to come tumbling out. “Happy’s ready, kid. Time to go,” Tony interrupts.

 

“Bye you guys, it was really fun to meet you!” Peter waves as he walks out the door. Internally there’s a vicious debate about what the hell just happened, but by the time he gets to the car, he decides he should wait and talk it over with Aunt May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is confusion. I can't wait until Miles shows up. (I can't wait until the villain shows up.) 
> 
> Almost 2000 kudos!! It's amazing!! You guys are so great!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
> 
> Next Update: May 14th, 2019
> 
> Now only mistletoe can hurt Peter and Thor will protect him from Loki... tell me if you get my very unfunny joke.


	12. What if-?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment when you forget you need Tony and Pepper to be married for the rest of the fucking plot to happen?

“Who was that kid?” Steve asks.

 

“He’s my intern,” Tony answers with a proud smirk on his face.

 

“Are you… trying to recruit him?”

 

“What!? Are you crazy? That kid is like a puppy, I don’t want him anywhere near danger!”

 

“So he’s just… a kid… that you found?”

 

“Technically Pepper found him, but I found him in the intern labs and he just kept surprising me. So I got him to work with me.”

 

“He seemed kind of…” Steve trails off.

 

“Like a dorky little nerd who couldn’t hurt a fly?” Tony offers.

 

“I guess that’s one way to put it… he kind of reminded me of…”

 

“Who?”

 

“Pre-serum me? He’s got the same spirit-- and I don’t know… something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

 

Tony shrugs. “Visit us during lab time, see how he works.” He grins. “He’s here Tuesday and Thursday afternoons when I’m not busy.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

^*^

 

**Christmas**

 

“Pep, I need to talk to you about something…” Tony starts.

 

“What’s that?” she asks, wrapping a blanket over their shoulders. 

 

Tony leans into her rubbing her shoulder. “I’ve been thinking… and well… I want to start something with you…”

 

Pepper gives a small puff of laughter. “Tony, if this is you proposing, this is  _ not _ how I expected it to go.”

 

Tony looks into her eyes. “Well, you know me, Pep.” He brings his hand up to cradle her face. “I can never do what’s expected of me.”

 

They grin through a chaste kiss before Tony leans back. He rubs his thumb across her cheek. “That was not actually what I was planning. But that is an excellent idea, and probably the first step.”

 

Pepper leans into his hand more. “What were you thinking, Tony?”

 

“I want a kid.”

 

Pepper snorts. “Really?” she asks incredulously. “You want a kid? Is this because of Peter?”

 

Tony lets his hands fall away from her. “I- Is this too much? Am I pushing this on you?”

 

“No, Tony. I just want to know where this came from,” Pepper says, taking her boyfriend’s hand.

 

“That's a good question…” Tony says looking over Pepper’s shoulder. “But I think you know the answer.”

 

“Peter’s really made an impact, hasn’t he?”

 

“You know he has, Pep.” Tony stands up and walks across the room. “FRIDAY could you get Happy up here?”

 

“You had him go home for Christmas, Boss,” FRIDAY responds.

 

Tony tisks. “That’s right. Guess I’ll have to make due.” Tony reaches out and pulls Pepper up from the couch.

 

“Tony, what are you doing?”

 

Tony kneels down in front of her, taking her hands in his own.

 

Pepper blushes and gives a short, bubbly laugh. “Are you really doing this?”

 

“I don’t have a ring,” Tony starts, “but Ms. Pepper Potts, my everything, would you do me the  _ absolute _ honor of becoming my wife?”

 

Pepper snorts at his ridiculous demeanor. “Yes, Tony. I will marry you.”   

 

<>*<>

 

**Thursday, January 15th**

 

Peter is antsy to get to SI. He clambers onto the bus as fast as he can and takes a seat. He’s sure that the suit will be finished today. And after it’s finished Tony will start looking into who Spider-man is.

 

Peter mentally curls into himself, bundled up in a blanket of thorns and worry. How did he let this happen? They’ve been working on the suit for  _ over a month _ .  _ It probably would have been finished in a week if Tony was working on it by himself _ , he thinks bitterly. Tony hadn’t been working on it when Peter wasn’t there. 

 

He’d procrastinated telling Tony until it was almost too late.  _ What’s worse, Tony finding out on his own, or telling him after all this time? _ Peter asks himself.

 

His introspection isn’t paused as the bus pulls to a halt. He goes on auto-pilot, moving through security and to the elevator.

 

His chest is tight with fear, a knot tied by his own actions. Why didn’t he tell Tony as soon as he knew he was building the suit? There’s no way Tony isn’t going to get mad, anyone in their right mind would. Secrets are always so fucking stupid; they leaving gnawing tigers to rip you apart, and you fucking asked for it . 

 

It doesn’t even matter anymore, he can’t change the past. The road forward is a forest, dark and full of twists and turns. It would be better to tell him now, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t be as mad for the lying and it might be easier to explain himself that way. But that would mean he would have to say the words out loud.  _ Initiate _ it all. The thought intimidates him more than any criminal holding a gun to his face has.

 

^*^

 

Peter falls back on his bed and groans into his pillow. He is absolutely fucked and it is his fault. All he has left to do is  _ imagine _ how Tony is going to react.

 

None of the scenarios seem entirely positive.

 

^*^

 

**Monday, January 19th**

 

Peter wakes up to the smell of pancakes. He rests his eyes for a few moments, content in letting himself wake up slowly. When the scent shifts to burning pancakes, Peter rushes out of his room to the kitchen.

 

“Hey, Peter,” May greets warmly. “What’s got you up looking so panicked?”

 

“I smelled something burning,” Peter says neutrally.

 

“Oh, shoot!” May says, moving over to the stove, flipping the pancakes. “I’m sorry. The second batch and I’m burning them already.”

 

They both release warm chuckles. Peter smiles and takes a seat at the counter, May’s presence making him forget his worries for tomorrow.

 

“So, how’d you sleep?” May asks.

 

“Alright,” Peter says automatically. Did he? He can’t really tell.

 

“Anything happening at school today?” she asks.

 

“I hope not,” Peter answers.

 

May ladles out more pancake batter onto the pan. “So I was thinking…” she trails off.

 

“What?”

 

“Maybe we could go to the animal shelter Wednesday afternoon. You know… look at some cats, take a dog on a walk…”

 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Peter smiles. 

 

^*^

 

Peter swings from building to building, keeping his eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. He hears a large explosion and immediately goes swinging towards it. As soon as he gets to where the sound comes from, nothing seems to be there, just normal traffic. What happened?

 

The question is gone from Peter’s mind when he hears a gun cocking a few blocks away. 

 

He gets out of that fight with a harsh cut on his cheek that he hopes will be healed by the following afternoon.

 

Peter ends the night stopping a robbery before heading home to collapse into an exhausted sleep, not a worry in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Peter, stop self-deprecating so much!)  
> That explosion was important. (It's not anyone you know yet. Miles is far away from that mess.)
> 
> GUYS! It’s time for another round of SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION! Tell me if you’re writing a fic (I read for a lot of fandoms so chances are that I might be reading for whatever fandom you're writing for) and I’ll read it!
> 
> 2371 Kudos! I love it! I feel so important! quite unbelievable.
> 
> NEXT UPDATE: June 11th, 2019 (Chances are it's going to have art!)
> 
> Btw I did see Endgame. But even so, don't spoil anything in the comments for the people who haven't.


	13. Today’s the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a month later, I finally have it!

**Tuesday, January 20th**

 

Peter exits the elevator, his muscles tense. Today’s the day.

 

School had been hell. He was too worked up about what’s about to happen to think.

 

He steps through the door to Tony’s lab, finding Tony looking at some clips of Spider-man on youtube. The man turns around on his swivel chair to face Peter.

 

“Hi, Tony,” Peter says, stretching out the ‘i’.

 

“Hi, Peter,” Tony imitates, stretching the ‘i’ in the same way. He’s got a serious expression on his face.

 

“You- you uh- find out who Spider-man is?” Peter asks, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“You know, Peter, I did!” Tony says with blatantly faux enthusiasm. “And you know what I found?”

 

Peter nods and looks at the floor by Tony’s feet. “I bet you do!” he continues. “And you know what I want to know?” Peter shakes his head.

 

Mr. Stark stands up and walks over to Peter. “Why on Earth you thought it was okay to keep this from me,” he growls out.

 

Peter stiffens, clenching his fists anxiously. “I-I--” Peter tries.

 

“‘Cause surely you knew I would find out eventually, right? Just by the nature of you interning with me. FRIDAY watches everything. She would have seen something eventually, and then I would see it, and then would know. And then you still didn’t tell me when we started making the suit? What was the point of all that? What were--”

 

“I’ve never told anybody!” Peter interrupts. Tony stops talking as Peter meets his eyes briefly. “I’ve never told anybody, and I didn’t know how to even start. I gave up on trying to get myself to do it because trying to tell you was making me feel worse than keeping it from you.

 

“And what am I supposed to say?! ‘I’m fifteen, I have superpowers, and I fight criminals in my free time’?! Nobody  _ knows _ , Mr. Stark!” Peter says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Nobody but you.” He breathes in and out and relaxes his body, eyes open only a crack, looking at the floor to Tony’s left. “I- I understand if I’ve lost your trust.”

 

“Oh, what I’m ‘Mr. Stark’ again?” A few moments pass. “Spider-kid…” Tony says softly. “Do you still want the suit? ‘Cause me and my intern worked really hard on it.”

 

Peter looks up, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Really, Tony?”

 

“What am I going to do? Scrap it all?” Tony jokes.

 

“No, no. I just didn’t think you’d give a literal fifteen year old a weaponized super suit,” Peter’s grin shines through in his voice.

 

Tony falters. “You know what-- that’s a good point. This is probably a bad plan,” he rushes out.

 

“No no! Please! I’m going to be out there anyway… this way you- um- you can keep an eye on me… if you want,” he adds lamely. “‘Cause--”

 

“You know what? You’ve convinced me. Now come on,” Tony commands, walking past him to the door.

 

“W-where are we going?” Peter asks.

 

“Ice cream and a movie. Being angry takes so much energy.” Peter nods in agreement. “No more work today. And no spider-man-ing either.”

 

“Did you just make my secret identity into a verb?”

 

“I’m Tony Stark, I can do whatever I want.”

 

“And I don’t want to gloss over the fact that you called me ‘spider-kid’.”

 

“You said it yourself! You’re only fifteen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like my art! <3


	14. Well Earned Twenty Bucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is late!! <3

The weekend after Peter gets the suit, Tony accompanies him on patrol in his own suit.

 

Peter goes on patrol with a suit  _ he made with Tony Stark, with Ironman _ .

 

He almost wishes he had someone to fanboy about it with. He sweeps the thought from his mind; just because Tony Stark knows doesn’t mean anyone else can. Tony is his mentor, his protector in a way. He knows what it’s like to need to save people. No one is going to be as understanding about the constant lying as he is. 

 

So Peter doesn’t tell Ned. He momentarily considers it, but he rejects the thought faster than falling from an airplane without a parachute.

 

Peter texts Tony another idea for additional spider-suit features. There are only two messages in their conversation, both from Peter. “Can we add an AI to my suit?” and twenty minutes later, “And a parachute?”

 

Both go unseen by Tony because it’s later than any normal human should be awake.

 

^*^

 

Wednesday, February 28th

 

Pepper and Tony’s wedding is a spectacle event. Though only a few people are invited, the garden in Maryland is extravagant and beautiful for this time of year. 

 

“I’m still surprised you managed to get this all together in so little time,” May says, adjusting Pepper’s veil on the mannequin.

 

“My fiance is the richest man on Earth, he can out buy anyone else’s plans and give them compensation to find somewhere else within the right time period,” Pepper says with a smile. Her hair is being put up in intricate braids. “If you give someone enough money they can hire enough staff to complete something within a time crunch and still be ahead of schedule with the other dresses hemming.”

 

“But how did you manage to get a dress picked out so quick?” May presses. “It took me months to get a dress picked out for my wedding.” She examines Pepper’s dress. It’s short for a wedding dress and doesn't have many layers. It almost looks like someone took a simple white dress and stitched lots of roses into the fabric, but much more expensive. 

 

“Are you kidding.” Pepper grins. “I’ve been looking at wedding dresses for over a year, waiting for Tony to propose.”

 

The ceremony is beautiful. And the after party is, as Peter later describes it, a complete bop.

 

^*^

 

Thursday, March 1st

 

“Guys… are you sure you can eat all those?” Claire asks as Alex and Peter bring over twenty or so empanadas. 

 

“You dare test our power?” Alex asks.

 

“Yes, actually. I don’t think you can do it,” Claire says, challenge in her voice. Peter smirks.

 

“Bet?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Absolutely.” She smacks he hands on the table, her tray in between them. She raises herself out of her seat slightly, pushing up on her arms, and glares up at them. 

 

“Twenty bucks says we can eat them all,” Alex says, a playful smile on his face.

 

“Nuh, uh. You each have to eat half, no help from a partner. If either of you fail I get twenty bucks. If you do it, which you won't, I give you each twenty bucks,” Claire explains.

 

Peter snorts. “How about, we each have to eat half, but I can help him if I finish first?”

 

“Peter, you’re  _ tiny _ . You’re not going to finish first,” Claire declares. “So sure, go for it. Those are each like, a large snack, so…”

 

“What’s our time limit?” Alex asks.

 

“I’ll be nice and assume you got those to not eat right away and say two hours.”

 

“Awesome,” Peter grins mischievously. He lifts the first empanada to his mouth and takes a large bite. 

 

“So how was the wedding?” Claire asks.

 

Peter makes a questioning noise, still chewing.

 

“The Stark wedding, dumbass. Happened yesterday. You were definitely invited, you’re his personal intern,” Alex says before taking a bite of his own empanada.

 

Peter swallows. “Oh. Right! It was a lot of fun. I got the day off of school. The only con was that I had to go on an airplane twice. It was in Maryland.” Peter takes another bite.

 

“Were the Avengers there?” Claire asks, twirling her spaghetti on her fork.

 

“Yeah! Most of them were there. Thor wasn’t, I think. I didn’t really talk to any of them.” Peter takes another bite, almost finished with the first empanada.

 

“Why not?” Alex practically whines. “I want hot gossip. Where’s the tea?”

 

“What would you do in front of the Avengers? Confidently make yourself part of the conversation?” Peter scolds, taking the last bite.

 

“Good point,” Alex yields. “But spill the tea, Peter. Something had to have happened.”

 

Claire wrinkles her nose. Peter gives her a questioning look, tilting his head. “I just remembered how much I hate some teas. Sorry. Do spill.”

 

“I mean… Thor wasn’t there to get drunk and make a scene, you guys have to have heard some myths about Asgardian mead, right?”

 

“Yeah, I see your point. None of the Avengers seem too quick to get drunk anymore,” Claire says, cheek resting on her hand, propped up by her elbow. She shoves a forkful of spaghetti in her mouth. 

 

At the hour and a half mark, Peter finishes his ten empanadas. Alex is only three quarters finished. 

 

“How did you finish so fast?” Claire asks, a vaguely horrified expression on her face. Her plate is now clear of spaghetti, but she’s slowly working on a small salad that she got so she had something to do.

 

_ Literally superhuman metabolism, _ Peter thinks. He gives a playful shrug and smiles cockily. “Shouldn’t have bet against me Claire.” He reaches to take one of Alex’s empanadas, snatching it and taking a bite.

 

“You can’t possibly be able to eat more?” Alex comments, mouth full.

 

Peter gives another playful shrug and eats his way through one more empanada. Alex’s plate is soon clear of all traces of empanada, as per the rules of a salty judge and opposing better. Claire reluctantly coughs up the forty dollars, shakes their hands and says “Good game guys. Boy’s appetites horrify me.”

 

<>*<>

 

Miles walks home from school with a smile on his face.

 

“Mama! I’m home!” Miles calls as he closes the door to their apartment.

 

His mama is on the sofa, watching the news. Apparently, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark have gotten married. “I just got home a few minutes ago,” she says. “There’s an apple and peanut butter on the counter for you.” 

 

Miles tosses his backpack in his room before making his way to the kitchen. Their apartment is a small, two bedroom one bathroom place, with as few walls as possible. Miles takes the apple slices and sits down on the couch with his mama, who is still in her teal nurse’s scrubs.

 

“I didn’t know you paid attention to famous people’s weddings,” Miles says, sitting cross-legged on the couch and taking a bite of apple.

 

“I don’t normally, but--” his mama breaks off. She’s staring at the TV, images of what looks like Mr. and Mrs. Stark leaving the after party flash on the screen. The announcer's voice doesn’t seem like it’s hitting her. She’s got the same faraway look in her eye that appears when she talks about her parents. It sometimes happens when she talks about his dad too, but there isn’t much to say about him.

 

“Mama?” he asks, a slight concern building in him. His mama is a solid wall, built to withstand any attack. She doesn’t freeze up or trail off when speaking often. “What’s wrong?” That has to be it, right? Something’s wrong.

 

“It’s nothing, mijo. I just remembered something.” She turns to him and smiles. Mama picks up the remote and mutes the tv. “So, how was school?”

 

“It was soo boorriinngggg,” Miles says, dropping his head to the back of the couch in a display of dramatics. “All my friends were out sick! And we did synthetic division in math,  _ again _ .” His mama’s pause is forgotten now, not to be remembered for a week’s time.

 

“Everyone was out? Even Jamie?” Mama asks. She’s got a mischievous smile on her face.

 

Miles’ face gets warm and he glares at his apple slices. “Shut up.”

 

Mama starts giggling. “I didn’t say anything wrong, I just asked a question.” She puts her hands up in the air in mock surrender.

 

Miles picks up an apple slice and points it at her threateningly. “You know very well what you said,” he says, pouting. He crosses his arms, apple still in hand, and turns to glare at the television. “And for your information, yes, they were there.”

 

“Then I don’t see the problem, why didn’t you talk to them?” Mama smiles sweetly.

 

“Because,” Miles says, mumbling nonsense into his crossed arms afterward.

 

“Sorry mijo, what was that?” she asks, cupping her ear.

 

Not wanting to admit he hadn’t actually said anything he blurts, “Because they’re cute!” It just so happens to be the truth. Damn his lack of filter.

 

Mama chuckles. “Why don’t you invite them over for dinner sometime? I’d love to meet them.”

 

Miles’ mama is good at this sort of thing. Being bisexual herself, she delved into all knowledge of the lgbt+ community when her son came out to her in sixth grade as Bi. She’s still learning, but she has a great time teasing her son about his crush on a non-binary kid called Jamie.

 

“No!” Miles objects. “They don’t even really know me!”

 

“So? Have them come over, play a few video games? Show them your art!” Mama suggests.

 

“I can’t do that!” Miles stands up with his plate. “I’m leaving. This is bullying.”

 

His mama chuckles good-naturedly, letting him leave. When he’s in his room, he hears the TV unmute he takes a bite of apple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look it's Miles! I did it finally. This isn't how I was planning on getting him into the story. But I needed to speed things up again.
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! Thank you guys so much for 3100 kudos!!
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	15. Burning Building

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a month later... but I did it!

A figure slinks into the apartment through a window, a scarf, and top hat shadow its face and morphs it beyond recognition. Its black riding boots make the only sound in the room, clicking against the hardwood floor. As it stops to assess the room, a gloved hand reaches inside a dark tailcoat, pulling out a small gold pocket watch that adds a faint ticking to the noiseless room. There’s a click as the watch is shut and hidden beneath the suit once more.

 

The figure pulls out a strange bronze gun with intricate carving on the handle from a leather holster on its hip. There’s no one in sight, no witnesses. It looks like it has a change of heart when it puts away the gun, and it makes its way to the front door of the apartment, opening it just enough to see the number plate on it. The shadow stiffens and steps into the hallway.

 

The door clicks shut behind it. Its boots are near silent on the carpeted floor. A faint aged odor combines with the scent coming from a whistling heating vent in the floor. It pulls out a small box from its coat as it crouches down in front of the door opposite the one it entered from.

 

It opens the box silently, revealing a set of silver lockpicks. The door soon opens and the shadow steps inside. A woman is sitting on the couch with the television on. It pulls out the gun again, firing immediately. Fire spreads from the gun around to the floor, sliding across the wood and quickly catching on the couch. The woman screams and the figure walks calmly back out of the apartment. The fire alarm sounds as it makes its way to the fire escape. The insistent screeching is an indicator that its hard work paid off. 

 

<>*<>

 

“Don’t worry, buddy, I’m going to get you out of there!” Spider-Man says, half balanced on the wall and fire escape.

 

The kid is shaking in his place halfway out the window. It looks like he got stuck trying to get out to the fire escape.

 

“P-please,” the boy stutters. “My mama’s still in there! A-and my leg hurts a lot.” 

 

What hurts the most is that he seems to be only a little younger than Peter. Spider-Man pushes the thought away as he helps the boy move further onto the fire escape. “You’re doing great, I’ll get you to the ground then I’ll get your mama, okay?”

 

The boy’s leg is slightly discolored and at an odd angle and if his skin were paler, Spider-Man is sure a large bruise would be visible. He’s half sure the leg is broken. If Spider-Man weren’t here, the boy would have probably fallen trying to get down the fire escape.

 

The boy nods. Spider-Man sticks to the wall, keeping the boy upright as he walks down it, and hands him off to the small piece of the medical team that had managed to get here a few moments ago. Spider-Man immediately turns around and launches himself with his webs to get back onto the fire escape.

 

The smoke is so thick he can taste it; it only takes one breath for him to start coughing on the charred air. He’s thankful he thought of this kind of situation while making the suit- Smoke inhalation can mess you up badly. He taps the symbol on his chest three times in pattern and a gas mask forms around his face. The fire is hot around him, but there’s still room to move. 

 

The smoke is at least a half-foot layer over the ceiling, and the fire is loud. Listening hard for any people, he hears breathing and a heartbeat close by. This seems to be the last person in the building, so most people must have gotten out on their own, or just weren’t home.

 

Spider-Man pushes through the apartment, searching for the boy’s mother as he follows the heartbeat to the apartment door. She’s just on the other side, a short woman laying in the middle of the hallway with a faint pulse and shallow breathing. Spider-Man scoops up her unconscious body and sprints back to the fire escape, dodging the flames and swirling smoke that seems to chase his heels. 

 

He does the same thing he did with the woman’s son, carrying her down the wall, making sure to keep her body in a position that makes it easy to breathe. Spider-Man hands the woman off to the paramedics.

 

“The building is clear,” he tells them. They take the woman and put her on a gurney, attaching an oxygen mask to her face. 

 

^*^

 

“So, today I saved two people from a burning building,” Peter says, leaning against a table in the lab.

 

“Congratulations,” Tony says, smiling. He’s sitting in an office chair and pivoting himself back and forth with his foot. “Couldn’t have done that with your old PJ’s.”

 

“No, I couldn’t have,” Peter agrees, tilting his head to the right. “But I still could have done it better.”

 

“There’s always room for improvement,” Tony agrees, distractedly taking a full spin in the chair.

 

“I want an AI,” Peter says abruptly. “For the suit.”

 

“Really?” Tony asks. “You really think you need one?”

 

“I mean,  _ sure _ I can tell whether or not there are people left in a burning building. I can hear their heartbeats. But if I had an AI I wouldn’t have to take into account human error. I can’t always tell exactly where the heartbeat is coming from,” Peter explains.

 

Tony spins the chair around. “You make a fair point,” he says, grabbing a pen off of a table and pointing it at Peter. “So I ask you this: do you want to make it or do you want me to make it?”

 

“I mean…” Peter trails off, shoulders raised slightly in a held shrug. Could he do that?

 

“I think you could do it, with some guidance and looking at how I made FRIDAY and JARVIS. But I could just do it as well,” he offers, still spinning gently on the chair like a fidgety child.

 

“You really think I could?” Peter asks.

 

“Yeah, you’re a smart kid.”

 

“It’d take forever for me to make it,” Peter argues. “You could make it, in like, a day.”

 

“You want this done quick?” Tony asks. Peter nods. “Why?”

 

“I dunno, FRIDAY helps you help people, right? If I had one, I bet I could help a lot more people.” Peter says with a self-conscious shrug.  _ Is this asking too much?  _ he wonders.

 

“Alright,” Tony says. “I’ll do this one, but you’re making the next AI.” He moves the chair over to a computer.

 

“What?” Peter asks as he follows Tony with a confused look on his face.

 

“When I’m done with this one, and we’ve got some time to kill, you can make the next AI,” Tony clarifies.

 

“Oh, okay.” Peter relaxes.

 

“Why don’t we get Happy to give you a lift home? We don’t want your aunt to worry.” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter says, moving to lean against the table again. “Sorry for barging in without notice.”

 

“It’s fine, kid,” Tony says, typing something. “You’re just lucky I wasn’t out of town.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Happy’s ready for you, he’s waiting in the garage.” Tony has his eyes stuck to the phone in his hand, but he looks up for a moment to give Peter a small wave. “Bye, kid.” 

 

“Bye, Tony.” Peter waves back and makes his way down to the garage level.

 

<>*<>

 

“Why don’t we get Happy to give you a lift home. We don’t want your aunt to worry,” Tony suggests to Peter, glancing at him before looking back at the screen.

 

“Yeah.” Peter moves back to leaning against the table. “Sorry for barging in without notice.”

 

“It’s fine, kid,” Tony says, nothing’s wrong with Peter barging in. He types out a message to Happy, not bothering to use FRIDAY. Happy doesn’t enjoy FRIDAY interrupting him. “You’re just lucky I wasn’t out of town.”

 

“Yeah,” Peter says.

 

Tony gets a message from Pepper and Happy at the same time. The one from Pepper reads “Good news, bad news, and good news with bad news context.” Anxiety spikes in him. The one from Happy reads, “I’ll meet him in the garage.” Tony can feel the reluctance seeping from the message.

 

“Happy’s ready for you, he’s waiting in the garage.” Tony types back a reply to Happy letting him know that Peter is on his way, staring momentarily at Pepper’s message. “Bye, kid.” Tony looks up for a moment and gives Peter a short wave.

 

“Bye, Tony.” Peter waves back and leaves the lab.

 

“FRIDAY, call Pepper,” Tony says, a calling tone plays through the speakers.

 

“Hey, babe,” Pepper greets.

 

“Hi, what’s going on?” he asks with rushed words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask all your curiosities in the comments! I want to know what you're thinking!!
> 
> Thank you guys for almost 3600 kudos and almost 2000 subscribers!! oh my goodness. It's a lot of people! I love you guys!~ 
> 
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> 
> I am hopefully going to be posting a Halloween special on the 30th of October, so look out for that if you want!

**Author's Note:**

> Mwah! You lovelies know the drill by now but it is for the newcomers! Tell me where you're from if you aren't on the list already. The world is so very big!
> 
> Albania, Argentina, Australia, Austria, Bangladesh, Belgian, Benin, Bermuda, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Costa Rica, Croatia, Cyprus, Czechia, Denmark, El Salvador, England, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Guatemala, Hong Kong, Hungary, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Japan, Kazakhstan, Korea, Lithuania, Malaysia, Mexico, Mongolia, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Pakistan, Paraguay, Peru, The Philippines, Poland, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Réunion, Romania, Russia (Россия), Saudi Arabia, Scandinavia, Singapore, Slovakia, South Africa, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sweden, Switzerland, Taiwan, Tanzania, Trinidad and Tobago, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States of America, Venezuela, and Wales.


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